


nothing here but light

by DrowningInStarlight



Category: Campaign (Podcast)
Genre: Episode 38 coda, Families of Choice, Fluff, Gen, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Missing Scene, Sleepy Cuddles, Team as Family, because that whole scene was so fucking soft and im weak for the found family of it all
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-07
Updated: 2020-05-07
Packaged: 2021-03-02 19:47:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,144
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24062356
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DrowningInStarlight/pseuds/DrowningInStarlight
Summary: Gable wakes to the familiar feeling of Travis’ absence.
Relationships: Gable & Jonnit Kessler, Gable & Travis Matagot
Comments: 10
Kudos: 31





	nothing here but light

**Author's Note:**

> i just cannot resist writing travis and gable bickering it's so much fun oh my god 
> 
> title from farewell wanderlust by the amazing devil.

Gable wakes to the familiar feeling of Travis’ absence. 

They don’t immediately remember where they are, but they know that Travis is supposed to be here and he isn’t and that’s worrying if not unusual, so they push themselves up on one elbow and glance around blearily. It takes a moment for the hotel room to spark recognition, but when it does they sink back down in relief. Okay. Their hotel room. They can deal with that. 

There’s a bloody towel discarded on the floor, and right, Jonnit and Travis had shown up unconscious and bleeding, they’d had to keep Travis awake, and… they don’t remember anything after that. That probably means they fell asleep first, but their head still pounds with tiredness. 

Jonnit is still tangled up in the covers at their side. It’s a big bed, but Jonnit is tucked in close, and Gable takes comfort in feeling his heartbeat against their side, slow and steady. He’s safe. They’re all safe. There hadn’t been another… well. Another Dref. 

(There’s easily room in the bed for a small teenager and a large angel. Hell, there’s easily room for a small teenager, a large angel and an average size changeling, but Gable’s heart aches because there would be room for four. Oh, but there are too many ghosts in this damn city.)

They stare up at the ceiling. There’s light filtering in around the heavy velvet curtains, pale and watery with the early hour, but sunlight nonetheless. That explains Travis. Now they’re lying still and listening, they can hear the noises of someone splashing around in the big old bathtub next door. They sigh wistfully in the memory of the bath they were so cruelly snatched from by Spit the previous day. 

Jonnit stirs a little against them, and Gable puts out a soothing hand. They just lie there for a while, stroking Jonnit’s hair, revelling in the absurd comfort of the Broker’s beds and watching the weak beams of sunlight turn strong and golden. Carefully not thinking about the joust later.

It takes time, but eventually a sliver of anxiety sneaks into their quiet semi-doze, cold through their stomach. God, when did they pick up the habit of worrying about Travis Matagot, and how can they stop? 

Carefully as they can, they free themselves from Jonnit’s sleepy grip, and pad across the floor. No one had really got undressed before falling asleep last night, but Gable had at least taken the time to take their boots off, and the floor is cold against their feet. Everything’s cold, despite the sunlight filtering into the dimly lit room, so they snag a blanket from the end of the bed, and drape it around their shoulders. 

They knock on the bathroom door, but don’t wait for a response before pushing it open and looking inside. Sure enough, the bath is practically overflowing with bubbles, and Travis’ hair is just visible at one end. 

_“Gable,”_ he says idly, looking up at them. “My _modesty.”_

“Shut the fuck up,” they respond, and something inside them relaxes enough to leave them almost breathless. “You almost died, you bastard.” 

“Well, that’s a bit harsh,” Travis says. “It’s very difficult for me to nearly die, really, you know—” 

“I _do_ know, and that’s as close as I’ve ever seen you.” 

“Really? I seem to remember several times—” 

That’s true. For as long as they’ve known him, personal safety has been a bit of an afterthought. But it isn’t what Gable means. “Not like that. Not— you— It was Youngblood. You were almost killed by— by _Youngblood.”_

“Yes, I know, Gable,” Travis says. He sits up in the tub, causing more bubbles to spill over onto the floor. “I was there.” 

They glare at each other for a long, loaded moment.

Gable is suddenly powerfully aware of how little sleep they got last night, the fact that they have to joust later, and that Travis is undeniably less irritating when he’s bleeding out in their arms and that it’s happened more than enough times for them to know it. They look away, and rub their face. 

“Don’t do that to me again,” they order. 

“Alright, no need to get huffy about it,” Travis says airily, lying back in the tub. “You’ll wake Jonnit.” 

“I don’t think there’s anything in the world that could wake Jonnit before he’s ready,” Gable says, glancing back across the room to the bed where the only sign of Jonnit is the mound of blankets. 

“Hm, fair. But you are very loud, just like. As a person.” 

“Oh, says you, Mr Subtle Matagot.” 

Travis shrugs, and bubbles float down onto the floor. “Maybe I got it from you.” 

“You really, really didn’t. I’m going back to bed.” 

“Go on, then. I want to finish this _excellent_ bath in peace.” 

There’s silence, and Gable lingers in the doorway. The only sounds are the water dripping onto the stone floor, the distant buzz of a waking city. The windows have been flung open and the fresh morning air almost completely chases away the smell of blood. 

“We’re not Dref,” Travis says quietly. Almost too quietly to hear, but not, not quite. Gable looks back at him.

“What?” 

“Mm?” 

“I— you’re—” _Insufferable,_ Gable thinks, but what they end up saying is just “Come back to bed.” They dump their blanket in the doorway and stumble back across the room.

“Gable?” Jonnit mumbles sleepily, as they clamber back under the covers. 

“Yes,” they reply softly, “It’s just me. Go back to sleep.” 

He reaches out and throws an arm over their waist, and Gable puts a comforting arm around his shoulders. 

They don’t even realise they’d closed their eyes until the bed dips next to them and Travis dumps the blanket they’d left in the bathroom doorway on their head. 

“You forgot this,” he says, then slips under the covers on the other side of them from Jonnit, as they scrabble out from under the blanket. “Don’t you have to joust?” he adds quietly. 

“Not yet,” Gable replies, eyes still closed. “It’s early.” 

“Well, pardon me,” Travis says. “Next time I won’t get up at the crack of dawn— oh wait.” 

“Be quiet,” Gable says, immediately followed by “Come here.” 

He does, and Gable puts an arm around him, too. His hair smells of bubble bath. They breathe in, breathe out. Ignore the aching absence that is Dref Wormwood’s current shape in all of their hearts in favour of pulling their remaining family close, as close as they can. Travis turns over and buries his face in the pillow and they know, with the kind of instinct you only get when you’ve known someone for an absurd amount of time, that he’s smothering a smile. 

Gable falls asleep with the satisfied certainty that come what may, Tiberius Youngblood will die this day.

**Author's Note:**

> find me on tumblr as drowninginstarlights!


End file.
